Into the woods in August

by Kristina Woodhill

Purple palms
purple fingers
indelible edible ink sinking
into skin grooves
bleeding deep secrets
only a forest might
spill from a bucket of
huckleberry moments
when we all trudged
up the sloping wooded terrain
stumbling, giddy over
our seasonal hoping
for patches of dark purple eyes

plump, wide open

every green-field sky
announcing purple stars
in broad daylight!
not shiny but more dull,
like miniature black holes
intense with forest flavors,
pine trees and rich rot,
frozen winter nights,
spring snow-melt the binding broth

now we spy them
and how we bow down,
regaining our four-legged
fur-coated postures
over every last bountiful huckleberry bush

we, woodland creatures,
growling freely
and showing teeth
at noise-infested
four-wheeling humans
roiling by on the rural road

unsettling dry,
dry August dust,
powdery clouds engulfing riders,
forcing gritty tongues-full,
obscuring our hillside,
cloaking and calming our tensed mother instinct


Author's Note: Thanks, Chris, for your input and comments. Edited the last two lines, hopefully to clarify and create closure.

Posted on 08/24/2018
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/25/18 at 12:42 AM

Hi Kristina; I Googled defusing, and I think that's the word you're looking for. Diffusing also, but sounds more technical as in spreading out. I like your poem, especially for its descriptiveness; kept me captivated...not always easy for someone with ADHD.

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